High Ground
by Admiral
Summary: Stargate Command lends a hand to the campaign.


**DISCLAIMER:** Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Sci-Fi Originals, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

**AUTHOR'S COMMENT:** Totally off subject: Is it just me or does that "Stargate Infinity" cartoon suck all kinds of ass?

* * *

**"HIGH GROUND"**

**By Darrin A. Colbourne**

"Synchronous orbit achieved." Major White said from the helm of the X303 PROMETHEUS. The United States Air Force spacecraft was now orbiting the planet at 22,300 miles, keeping station above the area of operations.

"All right, let's get started." Colonel William Ronson said from his command chair. "Major Gaines, begin scanning the surface."

"Scanning." The blonde officer said as she worked her controls. PROMETHEUS began scanning the surface with long-wave Doppler radar, very sensitive thermal sensors and high-powered optics. The ship's fire control computers compared the return data with the picture of the intended target scanned into their memory banks and began to display possible matches on the tactical map.

"Possibles coming on screen now, Sir." Gaines said, then transferred the image to one of Ronson's display screens. The Colonel looked at the tactical map carefully as each "possible" was marked off. It wouldn't be beyond the X303's capabilities to start taking them out immediately, but his rules of engagement were clear: No bombardment from space. He was to land teams to confirm each target visually, then assist conventional forces in taking them out. It was an unnecessary complication as far as he was concerned, but he assumed it was his commander's way of keeping the existence and capabilities of the ship as secret as possible.

"Okay," Ronson said, "let's get this data to the Briefing Room. Major Gaines, you and I will do the brief. Major White, you have the Bridge.

Gaines and White answered with "Yes, Sir." Then Ronson and Gaines left the Bridge, while a technician took Gaines's seat at the Operations console.

* * *

"There are 26 possible targets." Major Gaines was saying to the Reconnaissance Force assembled in PROMETHEUS's briefing room. The Force consisted of Stargate Recon Teams One, Five, Seven and Thirteen, and its attention was riveted to the display screen at the front of the room, which showed a relief map of the battle area. Gaines was using a TeleStrator console to indicate the position of the targets. "Naturally, most of them are clustered in these areas to the South and West. We've also discovered a few in the North, and at least two are hidden in the capital here, and here. We've seen indications that this one is ready to move, and that these are already en route to another defensive position."

"Targets will be assigned by priority." Ronson said. "You're job is to confirm the target visually, tag it, give the 'success' code, then be prepared to be sent to the next target. We'll continue this until all the targets have been tagged, and we can go on to the next phase of the mission. Questions?"

Colonel Jack O'Neill, commanding officer of SG-1, raised his hand. "I was just thinking: Wouldn't this be a whole heck of a lot easier if, instead of four entire SG teams, we beamed one person down with, Oh, say, a big-ass rocket launcher so that he or she could blow up the target as soon as it was confirmed?"

Ronson gave O'Neill a humorless smile. "Yes it would, Jack, and you know exactly why we can't do it that way."

O'Neill nodded. He knew, all right. The dreaded "plausible deniability". The wrong people might see the targets being blown up and wonder aloud to more wrong people just exactly who did it and how it was done. The mission was crafted to fit the cover story. O'Neill didn't like it, but he had to go along with it.

"Just thought I'd throw that out there." O'Neill said. Major Samantha Carter, sitting next to him, smiled and shook her head.

"Well, if there aren't any more questions"--no one else raised a hand--"Major Gaines will give you your target assignments. Then get geared up. We commence in ten minutes."

* * *

It was odd to see Teal'c without his staff weapon, but the mission demanded it. No one was carrying a staff or a zat'n'ktel, or any other weapon not made on Earth. The rifle the Jaffa was carrying made up for it. The Barret M82A1A was a monster, a long-barreled, heavy, long-range sniper rifle that fired the same sized ammunition as a .50 caliber anti-aircraft gun. Though it was big enough that two people usually carried it into the field, disassembled, the alien shouldered the thing as if he were at parade rest. Meanwhile, Col. O'Neill and Major Carter drew M4/M203 combos--essentially grenade launchers attached to modified M16s--while Jonas Quinn opted for a Colt M1911A1 .45 caliber service pistol. All of the rifles mounted low-light scopes, while the pistol mounted a laser targeting beam. Each of the teams was similarly equipped, and all were wearing desert Battle Dress Utilities, complete with wide-brimmed dust hats and night-vision goggles. Light packs and stun and smoke grenades finished off the basic mission loadout and the teams, fully equipped, made their way to the ring room.

As they walked, Carter turned to Jonas. "You know you don't have to do this, Jonas." She said. "This is the type of thing Col. O'Neill and I signed up for, but this isn't really your fight. Yours...or Teal'c's."

"That's the same thing General Hammond told me before we left." Jonas said. "But I look at it this way: The actions we take today, or any actions like it, are steps toward a greater universal peace. That's always a good thing, isn't it?"

"Besides," Teal'c said, "the enemy we fight today may become an ally of the Goa'uld should they come to take over this world. To prevent such an alliance is reason enough to embark on this mission."

_Can't argue with that,_ Carter thought.

A few minutes later they arrived in the ring room. SG-1 stepped onto the ring platform and waited for the technician to send them down. It didn't take long. Suddenly the transport rings popped up from the floor, making their usual ratcheting noise, then SG-1 was surrounded by a bright blue light.

When the light dissipated the team found itself standing on a high sand dune overlooking a natural road that had been carved out by the passage of many vehicles. SG-1 brought their weapons to bear and scanned the surrounding area.

"There!" Major Carter said, drawing everyone's attention to the target. It was on the road, closing on them at about 70 mph. The massive truck was riding blacked out, with the headlights and presumably the taillights out and no lights on inside the cab.

The team hit the sand and O'Neill, Carter and Teal'c each looked at the truck through their scopes. There may have been doubts from geo-synchronous orbit, but from 700 yards away the giant platform trailer and the huge missile mounted on it were unmistakable.

"Tallyho." O'Neill said. "We got us a Scud launcher. Teal'c, tag him."

Teal'c brought up his rifle and took aim. He wanted to bury the round deep in the structure of the truck where it wouldn't be found easily. He zeroed in on the grill of the cab, deciding that putting the round in the engine block was the best bet. Once he was set, he took a deep breath to steady himself, then fired.

The bullet that came out of the gun was not the standard issue NATO round. Instead, it was a spent naquada shell. On impact, the alien metal bullet left trace material all the way into the target body until it came to rest. In this case, the impact caused the engine to seize, and the driver of the truck had to fight with the beast to keep it from jackknifing.

When the vehicle was stopped in the middle of the road and the crew got out to see what hit them O'Neill took out his radio. Satisfied with what he'd seen, he keyed it and said: "Sky Watch, this is Safe Guard One. Target Painted, Over."

With that, SG-1 stood and brought up their weapons, and the transport rings came down and took them away.

* * *

Next stop was another dune in a different part of the desert. This Scud launcher was breveted in a sand berm and surrounded by guards in Iraqi uniforms and carrying AK-47s. This transport was a little close, O'Neill thought.

One of the guards confirmed his fears by pointing up at them. He may not have realized what it was he'd seen, but he definitely noticed the transport, and he couldn't fail to notice the American fire team that now held the high ground in the desert night. The guards started to move in their direction at a run, trying to climb the dune of shifting sand.

"Teal'c, go!" O'Neill said as he, Carter and Jonas set up to cover him. The first shots came from the Iraqis, trying hard to shoot on the run. Carter and O'Neill returned fire, the barrels of their guns flash suppressed to keep the bright flames from washing out their sights. The Iraqi bullets kicked up sand around them, while the 5.56mm ammo of the M4s claimed their targets.

Teal'c was oblivious to the shooting as he lined up his mark. This time he was aiming for the mechanisms of the launch gantry, which was now being raised. Apparently the Iraqi commander wanted to get the rocket off before it was wasted by an American bomb. Teal'c fired and once again found his mark. The naquada bullet pierced the mechanisms, jamming them. The gantry had only gotten halfway up before the hoist failed.

Jonas had joined in the firing as more guards got closer to their position. O'Neill paused to take out his radio. "Safe Guard One to Sky Watch!" He said. "Target Painted, Over!"

The team barely had time to get to kneeling positions before the transport rings came down again.

* * *

This time they found themselves on the roof of a fairly tall building, in what looked like a small city. There were several fires burning, and O'Neill reasoned that they must be the burning remains of targets of the air campaign. An explosion and some Triple-A fire off to the East confirmed that theory, and the Colonel decided it would be best to start looking for their target. "Spread out." He said, and each team member took a different corner of the roof.

After a few minutes, Teal'c sounded the alarm. "O'Neill! Over here!"

Carter, O'Neill and Jonas joined Teal'c, who was pointing at something on a stretch of highway that the building overlooked. The suspected Scud launcher was about a thousand yards away and headed North fast.

"Can you do it?" O'Neill said over Teal'c's shoulder.

The Jaffa was already lining up his shot. Deep breath...pull the trigger...

The naquada round impacted behind the passenger's side of the cab. From the way the truck swerved a few seconds after the bullet hit O'Neill could only guess that it had gone all the way through to the person inside, and the driver was trying to see who'd shot at them.

"Another one for good measure." O'Neill said.

Teal'c lined up again. This time he tagged one of the massive tires. The blowout caused the truck to skid slightly, and the driver had to stop to regain control of the vehicle.

"Best we can do." Carter said.

"Just about." O'Neill said as he keyed the radio. "Sky Watch, this is Safe Guard One. Target Painted, Over."

They gathered together just in time for the transport rings to come down around them.

* * *

One by one, all over the deserts and small communities of Iraq, The "Safe Guard" teams planted naquada bullets in their assigned targets. There were few exchanges of fire and there were no casualties on the good guys' side. When SG-1 appeared aboard PROMETHEUS for the last time, Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter headed directly for the Bridge.

"Is it working?" Carter asked as soon as she walked in.

"See for yourself." Ronson said as he pointed to a tactical display. Carter looked. The display now showed yellow hash marks in the places where the original 26 possible had been. The hash marks were fuzzy and irregular, but they were definitely visible. They were the result of the naquada traces absorbing and reacting to the ship's Doppler radar. The marks were already being assigned target designations and GPS coordinate tracks.

The mission was a success. PROMETHEUS could now keep track of every Scud launcher in the country.

It was time for the next phase of the plan. "Tell them we're ready up here, Major."

"Roger that." Gaines said, then switched to a coalition frequency on her radio. "Sand Storm, this is Sky Watch, Over."

From the Air Component Command Center in CENTCOM HQ in Qatar, the answer came back, "Sky Watch, this is Sand Storm, Go ahead."

"Sand Storm, Sky Watch has targets designated and is ready to execute the Air Tasking Order."

"Roger that, Sky Watch. ATO elements are in place and awaiting tasking, Over."

"Switching to tactical frequencies. Out." Gaines said, then took a quick look at the types and designations of the aircraft being made available to her.

Minutes later, F/A-18Es and -18Cs from carriers in the Persian Gulf and Mediterranean Sea, F-16s and A-10s from bases in Kuwait and Saudi Arabia and B-1's from Diego Garcia began the biggest and most successful Scud hunt since the first Persian Gulf War. Joint Direct Attack Munitions, Joint Standoff Weapons, Maverick Missiles and Conventional Air-Launched Cruise missiles rained down on Iraqi Scud crews who thought that they were unassailable. American and British Special Forces teams that had been tracking the Soviet era weapons all wondered when it had been declared open season on Iraqi SSMs. When the smoke cleared, the Iraqi's were left without a long-range missile launch capability.

Just to be sure, an X302 fighter from PROMETHEUS's launch bay conducted the Bomb Damage Assessment from Low Earth Orbit. Optical systems just as sensitive as those on the "mothership" showed that wherever there was supposed to be a Scud launcher there was now a burning hole in the sand.

"Targets confirmed." The female voice said in the technician's headset. "All Scud launchers destroyed."

* * *

Sky Watch was sending pictures along with the vocal confirmation. The Air Force intelligence officer standing behind the technician in ACC/CENTCOM looked carefully at the fresh images.

"I'll be damned." He said. Those were dead Scuds all right. He then got on his headset and said to the Air Component Commander, "We want to confirm this with the SpecOps Commander and his forces, but I'd say we're looking at the genuine article."

"Outstanding." The Air Component Commander said. He was a three-star General and a veteran of several wars, but he'd never heard of such a completely successful operation. He turned to the Major at his side, a recent arrival from the States, who'd informed Tommy Franks and the rest of the general staff that he had a way to help eliminate the Surface-to-Surface missile threat. Well, he hadn't been kidding.

"What the hell did you say 'Sky Watch' was again, son?" He asked.

"It's the ground control station for a Deep Space Radio Astronomy platform in geosynchronous orbit." Major Davis said. "We thought we might be able to turn the platform to practical, strategic use in the Iraqi Theater of Operations."

"Astronomy? Isn't that kind of like using the Hubble Telescope to bull's-eye tanks?"

"Yes, Sir." Major Davis said, smiling. "I suppose it is."

"Well, I don't care how it works, just so long as it does. You tell those people back where you work that CENTCOM owes them one."

"I'll do that, Sir."

* * *

PROMETHEUS would stay in orbit for the duration of the war, just to make sure they hadn't missed any potential targets, but for the moment it's job was done, and the SG Teams celebrated with soda and bottled water as they watched coverage of Operation Iraqi Freedom on all the cable and satellite stations they could pick up. They knew they'd never get recognition for their actions in the public--no "embedded" reporters on the X303--but they knew they'd done their bit for freedom, and that was enough for them.

FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTE: God Bless the fighting forces of the U.S., U.K. and the Coalition of the Willing. If only it were as easy as I've portrayed it in this story, but victory is no less assured.


End file.
